Visiting the Folks
by JaLogoJa
Summary: Sniper and Scout decide to take their relationship to the next level and to meet one another's families. Multichapter, though each chapter is kind of like it's own little story.
1. Chapter 1

"Snipes, f'real, you don't even know. Do you even know? You don't even fuckin' know, man."

The sniper offers only a gruff grunt in response, doing his best to read the road signs as his rather cryptic van runs its way slowly down the street.

"This shit is SO gay..." The boy continued on his ramble, clearly not giving heed to how little the man actually seemed to care. His body bumps harshly against the passenger seat as he allows himself to angrily fall back, arms crossing angrily over his chest with a sigh. "Seriously, this shit ain't cash. So uncash."

"Just shut ya trap, 'lright? 'S your stupid request 'n the first place! Goin' all lovey dovey on me, sayin' we should meet each other's folks!" The bushman's speech falls to a low and aggravated mumble, slowly fading until the two both fell rather silent.

"Yo, we're getting' pretty close." The younger of the two finally chirps up, "Man, Ma's gon' be pumped to see me. Kinda the man of the family. Y'know, no big deal or nothin'."

Stepping inside the rigid townhouse about 10 or 20 minutes later proved quite the opposite, as the rather lean Bostonian was pulled down by his mother's arm into what looked like a rather painful hug. He finally arose, lipstick smeared about his face, looking just as triumphant as he had a moment before. He cockily glanced at the sniper, mouthing a silent, "Told ya."

_Told me what? _Was all the Australian could think, his dumbfounded expression locked onto the boasting Scout's. He had no words to describe this boy, he was simply too much.

"And who's your friend?" The Scout's mother finally asks, offering the Australian a rather cute smile.

"Name's Jack." He smiled, removing his hat from his head. "Jack Mundy."

"Ooo, what an accent!" She praised, lifting a hand to fan her face. "I'm Marissa, Marissa Bianchi."

"Italian?"

"Mmmhm." She batted her eyelashes, and Jack by no means missed the roll of Scout's eyes.

"Ma, stop." He huffed, walking over to the older man and placing an arm around his shoulder. "He's already got someone."

"Must be a lucky woman." She smiled and lightly shook her head, walking from the living room into the kitchen. "I'll make you boys some lunch! Must be hungry after that trip!"

"Mmm, y'hear that? You're a mighty lucky _woman._" He quietly purred, giving the boy's thigh a heavy pat.

"Fuck you." He angrily growled back.

"My my, someone's on 'er period."

"Yeah, it's your mom."

"Clever. Y'think o' that one y'self?"

"Nah, got it all over my dick when I was bangin' her last night."

"'Least my mum never hit on ya, 'nd there's no need t'bring her into this conversation."

"Hm."

"Don't worry y'self, Caleb."

"Hmmmm..."

The hummed response was longer this time, and much softer than the previous one. The young Bostonian rested his head on the other's shoulder for a minute, before lifting it with a sigh. "We should prolly join her in there."

"'lright."

"So..." Ms. Bianchi began, joining the two men at the table and placing what appeared to be grilled cheese before each of them. "How'd you two end up becoming friends anyhow? You two don't rightly seem like a pair that'd get along."

It was an awkward question, mainly because the answer involved the Sniper being rammed ball's deep into the Scout.

"Erm..." The archer began, doing his best to stall for time. "Well... as I recall it, we'd known each other for awhile, but 'ad never really talked. Think it was durin' one of our missions, 'e managed to crawl 'is way into the crow's nest I was occupyin'. Ended up bein' a pretty long mission, lotsa overtime. Hours worth! Talked for a long while, realized we... kinda clicked, and ended up..." Oh_ Christ, what DID we end up doin'?_

"Fighting!" The Scout piped in, earning a confused glance from the Sniper, before he nodded solemnly.

"Uh, roight, fightin'. Pretty loud fight, too, might I add. Scout's got a big mouth no matter what he's doin', eh? Uf..." The gunman's innuendos were cut short as he felt the Scout's foot stomp harshly on his own.

Luckily, the boy's mother took no notice, and instead simply smiled and laughed. "You've got that right! He wasn't always the loud one, y'know?"

Jack cocked his eyebrows. "Y'don't say..." Caleb's eyes drilled holes into the side of the man's head. He'd love to have wiped that shit eating grin right off his stupid face.

"Mmmhm, my little boy was always smaller than his brothers, really a small bo-"

"Ma, I was like fuckin' six years old, what'd you expect?"

His mother threw him a stern look, "Mind your language."

A roll of the eyes and a shake of the head, "Jesus Christ..."

"Besides, you're perfect the way you are, with your runnin' and all. Look at those muscular legs! Women love that! Anywho, Caleb was always real quiet, did pretty well in school though! All changed when our little man got into high school. Became a ladies man, gained some confidence," She beamed happily for a moment before her face dropped into a frown, "lost some grades."

"This..." The bushman motioned to the boy sitting beside him. "Wos a ladies' man?"

"Yo, snipes, fu... screw you, man. I had the ladies linin' up. My bedroom door was always open to 'em, f'real."

He practically cackled, swinging his hand and giving the air a right good spanking.

"Sweetie, don't gloat! You were still a virgin when you left the house."

The crackling and spanking simultaneously stopped.

The Australian hummed, "What a playa'."

Instead of feeling insulted, the Bostonian simply cringed. "Jesus, Snipes, never use the word 'playa' ever again."

"I think I've grown t'like it."

"Well ungrow."

"What do I get in return then?"

His colleague shrugged, slumping back down in his seat.

"Mm, I've got s'm ideas."

Scout's eyes fell to the floor, but the smirk on his face did poor to go unnoticed.

As did Jack's smug, but well intentioned, chuckle.

Caleb gazed at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face. Welp, it was going about as well as he had expected it to. His mother and, uch, boyfriend doing an equal job of humiliating him. A deep sigh released itself from his lungs as he walked away from his reflection. Giving his face and hands a quick once over with the worn towel that hung from a rather chipped pole, he emerged from the bathroom.

"...What?" The Scout inquisitively asked as he strolled over to where his partner sat on the couch. The sniper stared back at him, a look of utter adoration fixed on his face.

"WHAT?"

"Is this really you, mate?" He asked, pointing to what he held in his lap.

"Oh god..."

"Look at 'em cheeks! You're bloody adorable!"

"I look so stupid."

"Oh god, I just wanna pinch ya! You belong in a commercial, lad. Baby o' the year." He ranted on, finger jabbing at the photo in the album to further illuminate his point.

He flipped the page, a frown finding itself on his face. "O's this? Wankah's holdin' you by yer' ankle."

Caleb let out a laugh, "Oh man, that's my brother. Brown or red hair?"

"Brown."

"Yeah, that's Danny. He was always the biggest dick to me. Probably Jack taking the picture."

"Jack?"

"Yeah."

"Your brother has the same name as me?"

"Yeah."

"Well that's not completely unsettlin'... Oh, wait, yes it is..."

"Nah, man... It's not the same. He's Jack, but you're Jyack." He mimics, putting on his best Australian accent.

"Roight, must've forgotten that one."

"Muh nayme's Jyack. Ai 'ave a roight gewd toim wankin' dingos."

"Is that s'pos'd to be me?"

"Ayup."

"Well you can just sod off. Yeh man look at me, I'm bloody Caleb, I love baseball more than me own mum. You'd think I get ladies, but really I'm just a virgin."

"Yo, fuck you. Not anymore I'm not."

"Heh, damn straight."

His attention went back to the photo album, turning yet another page.

"Oi, now that's just upsettin'." He commented, looking down at the bruised Scout that stared back at him.

"Yeap, was always the one to take the beatings... Sooo..." The usually cocky voice trailed off, it sounded almost upset. Almost.

"Aw, c'mere."

Jack pulled the Bostonian down next to him, tightly wrapping an arm around him.

"'S just downroight mean." His hand brushed away the Scout's bangs, and he gently planted a kiss on his exposed forehead. "Y'could break 'em in less than a minute if ya wanted to now."

The scout's body shifted closer to Jack's.

Something that sounded a bit like a thanks was murmured as the boy dug his face into the other man's shirt.

The sniper smiled.

"Yer mum's roight, y'know. Ya really are perfect. Jus' real' bloody annoyin'."


	2. Chapter 2

"This's where we'll be sleepin'?"

Jack's head worked it's way around the room, admiring all the baseball and Red Sox trinkets the scout had managed to acquire in his years of living in this room. He wondered how much of the merchandise was actually Caleb's alone. The bunk bed pushed against the far wall, along with the futon on the floor, proved to show that the room had been split between him and a few of his siblings.

"You know it."

"'S a cute room."

"Cute the word you're lookin' for?"

"Mmmhm. S'all decked out in yer little baseball gear. S'cute."

"Yo, Snipes, baseball ain't "cute", alright? It's serious shit."

"Oooo, is it now? Musta missed that memo."

"Y'know what, Jack? You can just choke on a bag o' dicks."

"Like yer mum."

"What the fuck? Das fucked up."

"I reckon we both oughta lay off these jokes. They're unnervin'."

"F'real."

"Still, don't understand why we couldn't just sleep in th'van."

"The fuck do you think we are, man? We're not in safe little Teufort anymore."

"Not sure I'd go so far as to call it safe."

"This is some ghetto ass shit we're in. You'll be lucky if you're van isn't broken into period."

Jack snorts, "Now ya tell me. Now that've left everythin' of importance in my bloody camper! Thanks. Real helpful of ya."

"Don't it have an alarm?"

"Bloody thing's like 15 years old."

"...That a yes?"

"You're payin' me back for anythin' that get's stolen."

"Yeah yeah, alright. All pay ya back right now if ya want..." The smirk on the baseball addict's face faltered as the other shot him down with a shake of his head.

"Too tired, mate. Jus' wanna get some shut eye."

"You're no fun."

"Well the next time you drive the 12 hours t' Boston, I'll do anything you want."

"S'a deal, f'real. Awshit, it fuckin' rhymes! How legit is that?"

"Goodnight, Caleb."

Jack's eyes adjusted as they opened, the room still completely shrouded in darkness.

A grunt emerged from deep within his throat, the hand running it's way up and down his exposed torso all too familiar.

"Wot're you doin'?"

"Shhh..." Caleb, for once, quietly shushed him. The boy's hand worked it's way down, tugging gently at the man's pajama bottoms.

"Snipes, I'm so fuckin' horny."

"Then give yerself a nice tug. M'sleepin'."

"I like your hands more..."

_Do not even..._

"Nice and rough..."

_Every bloody time..._

"Y'don't even gotta be awake, just gimme your hand."

_Wait, wot?_

"Wot kind of request is that? How... How am I s'pos'd to even respond t'that?"

"By givin' me your hand, asshole."

"My, such a sweetheart."

"Dude, c'mon... please?"

The Bostonian took the hand for himself, grazing it lightly down his chest, caressing it against his thigh, clad in only a pair of briefs. He brought his mouth up next to the archer's ear, his breathe hot as he spoke.

"Fuck me."

There was a moment of tense silence before the bushman sat up.

"...Y'best shuttup if I d'this."

"Yes! I will!"

"Keep y'voice down, love. Yer mum's only a wall away."

The silhouette of the other nodded.

Caleb was loud, obnoxiously loud, and sex was no exception. The muffled moans and sighs were soon forgotten, and the boy returned to his full volume. Though the Australian did his best to shush his scout, the right push or pull would leave him practically screaming once again.

Having resided on the bottom of the bunk bed had proved to be a pretty terrible idea as well.

"Ow... dammit."Jack groaned as his head hit against the upper bunk once again.

"This ain't workin' out, mate."

"No... No, it is..." Caleb panted, rolling his hip into the thrust of the other man's.

"It is _actually _roomier in the camper, 'nd that's sayin' somethin'."

"...Cumming..." The Bostonian slurred between moans.

"You even listenin'?"

"I'm... mmm..."

His words weren't working too well for him as he wrapped his legs tightly around the assassin's waist.

"Oooooo, awwwwyeahhhaaaaa~!" Scout's voice shook as he messily came. Arm raised about his head as he continued to hump Jack's dick for a moment longer.

His victory roar quickly fell, and he was left to only heavily breathe.

"Woo, that was nice, Snipes." He commented, giving the man a pat on the side before lifting himself off of the sniper's shaft.

"Thanks."

"Wot? Tha's it then? I don't even get t'release?"

The light snore that came from beneath him gave a rather obvious answer.

"Unbelievable."

Waking up the second time was a much more pleasant experience. The mattress felt warm and sunken, cocooning in the archer. Caleb had managed to wrap himself around Jack's body at some point during the night as well, pressing his body even further into the mattress' depths.

Jack opened his eyes, the room no longer pitch black. Instead, the pale blue of the wall's mixed and mingled with the yellow rays that trickled on through the curtains. It was, to put it simply, comfortable.

The sniper allowed himself to stretch and yawn, turning his body to examine the rest of the room.

Suddenly, he froze.

"Caleb..." He whispered, giving the boy beside him a violent nudge.

"Caleb." He stated again, this time with more force in his wake.

"Wake up." He snarled, panic beginning to show.

"Hm. Yeah. I'm up. Wassap?"

"Who's 'at?"

"What?"

"THAT."

He gestures to the futon, which no longer lay unoccupied. Instead, a rather broad shouldered man slumbered atop it, his body facing the wall opposite them.

"Shit, yo. That's Kyle."

"Kyle?"

"Second oldest."

"So yer brother?"

"Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I apologize for any inaccuracies involving time period, accents, and the likes. My knowledge of the 60's goes as far as "There were hippies, right?"

Also I've never been to Boston... or Australia. If the accents seem to be more Philadelphian then... I guess everyone's from Philly now.

Ok. This A/N is done now.

"Morning, shithead."

"What the fuck!"

The laugh and disgusted groan seemed to merge into a single noise. Neither of the two sounds contributed anything positive, producing a rather awful tune.

"I missed ya, asshole!"

"Oh man, you little shit! C'mere!"

The younger of the two men seemed to be choking on his own chortles as the other gripped him in a seemingly tight headlock.

"That... was... too great."

Jack simply remained seated on the bed, a mere spectator, intrigued by the display that unfolded before him.

"Eat it. EAT IT."

_Why would 'e be eatin' a sock?_

Caleb had insisted on waking his brother in a rather unorthodox way: blocking off his air passages with a used sock.

While having advised against it, the young Bostonian had simply brushed the archer off, sitting himself atop his brother before gently pushing the used garment into his elder's face.

Which has, up to this point, led to said elder having made an attempt at shoving the sock down the other's throat.

Sitting at the kitchen table proved to be no less entertaining, as both boys seemed to enjoy getting their cereal over one another rather than in their mouths.

"Yo, seriously, you have fuckin' downs."

"Takes one to know one."

"No it fucking doesn't."

"...You have syphilis."

The bickering continued onward.

The man sitting across from the two boy's grinned, lightly shaking his head. A look of amusement and utter disbelief filling his expression.

The amount of similarities between these two was simply mind blowing.

"Oh, by the way, you two need to keep it the fuck down when you're, y'know, fuckin'."

The kitchen fell silent, aside from Kyle's rather loud chewing.

"As in?"

"Y'know, dick in dick... or whatever it is y'guys do. I don't really wanna fuckin' know."

He brought another spoonful of cereal to his mouth.

"Y'were there f'that?"

"Yeah, you two are fucking loud."

"Yeah, well that's what you get. Finally got some payback. Payback for all those times you brought some sleezey bitch into our room."

"Yo, at least she _was_ the bitch, not like I ever was. _You_ on the other hand. Jesus, never expected _you _to fuckin' scream like one."

"Wait... Hold on a sec, mate. Payback?" The Australian cut in. "Y'mean t'tell me y'knew he was there the entire time or somethin'?"

A rare blush crept onto Caleb's face, words tripping over one another before he cleared his throat, and continued once more.

"Well... I mean, I didn't at first. But, y'know, I heard him turn over or some shit... So... y'know... I thought... y'know... raise the volume... y'know... yeah..."

His words fell back into gibberish, and his eyes fell into his lap.

There was a good moment of tense silence before Kyle chirped in once again.

"So... was I supposed to be jealous? Cuz I'm not tryna' dick this guy. No offense, brit."

The couple twisted their faces, staring back at the cereal muncher for a moment.

"I'm Australian."

"Whatever."

"You were supposed to feel awkward or some shit, retard."

"Well I didn't. So... Nice try, bitch."

He got up, giving either of the two men a pat on the shoulder before dispersing from the room.

More silence.

"Wot a git."

"Tell me about it."

"He's jus' like you!"

"Yo, snipes, right here." Jack gazed down, greeted by the boy's middle finger.

"Awww, sorry. Yer right, you're not similar t'all. 'S a key difference."

"Which is?"

"'s comebacks are better."

"Fuckin' dick..."

"He seems t'think so. A dick in a dick. Tha's brilliant."

"Oh my god, he's so dumb."

"Does he live with yer mum? Doesn't rightly seem like the type to go out 'nd get 'imself educated... No offense, 'course."

"Non taken. But nah, lives in a crap little apartment in Philly. Guess he came here since he heard I was visitin'."

"Tha's a long drive. Awful nice o' him."

"Yeah, he means well. He's just so..."

His voice trailed off.

"Y'see why he reminds me o' you?"

"Yeah, I guess I can be kinda obnoxious. Being leader of the team'll just kinda do that to you, y'know? Everyone looks up to me and shit."

Jack let out a rather hearty laugh, silencing himself and nodding as he saw the look of confusion pass over the scout's face.

_Oh god, wankah's serious._

"So..." He began, doing his best to hastily steer the conversation into a new direction.

"Wos on the venue f'today?"

"I'unno, Stuff."

"Hm."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is a work of pure fiction that I have created out of my own head. All characterizations and scenarios depicted here are based on my own interpretation of the Sniper and Scout characters from the video game Team Fortress Two.

The marksman nodded, though a look of unease had clearly settled over him. His young friend took no notice however, far too excited about showing Jack everything he had missed out on.

"This was my childhood, man." He shook his head as nostalgia rushed over him.

"Tickets cost some bank though, y'know? But every fuckin' chance I got, I was here." He threw his fist towards the ground, further emphasizing his point.

"Yeah!" Jack smiled, nodding with needless enthusiasm.

The Scout stopped for a moment, one eyebrow lifting itself above the other.

"Y'lright, man? You seem kinda... jittery."

"Nah, 'm fine!" Bigger grin, harder nods.

The Bostonian cocked his head back.

"You have too much coffee or somethin'?"

"Er, yeah, that must be it, sorry."

"Nah, s'fine! I'm just glad you're excited!"

The messenger flashed him a smile.

"I wantchya to have fun, man "

The Sniper's face softened, a genuine smile falling onto his lips.

Alas, it lasted only a moment before a rather buxom man pushed roughly passed the assassin.

"Yo, what the fuck? Watch where you're fuckin' walkin', lardass!" The Bostonian cried after him.

The man turned around, a look of disbelief crossing his face.

"'Scuse me?"

"Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, fatty."

"What? What's your problem, man?"

"You gonna apologize or what, asshole?"

A look of smoldering rage began to show on the man's face as he swung his head lightly to the side.

"Listen, dick. I don't know what _you _problem is, but you can just fuck off."

"Eat my dick. You fuckin' bumped into my pal here."

"Then your pal can eat your dick. How about he says something his fuckin' self? What are you, his fuckin' girlfriend?"

The prior look of discomfort wasn't even comparable to this newly acquired one. Were it not for the shades, Jack would have looked, to put it bluntly, rather pathetic.

"S'fine, mate. Really. 'E's just hyped up. Lotsa Bonk, y'know how it is!" He laughed, awkwardly winding down into a cough as he took note of the other two's silence.

"We'll let you off the hook this time, retard." The younger American piped up.

"I'd kick your scrawny little ass if I wasn't here with my family, fuckwad."

With that, the other man disappeared into the crowd of brightly painted red and white fans.

"This what all baseball games r'like?"

"What? Awesome?"

"...Yeah. Tha's what I meant."

"Haha, you know it! C'mon, let's go!"

Caleb's fingers intertwined with the other's, pulling him forth into the sea of fanatics.

The boy stopped suddenly, turning and giving his partner yet another of his toothy smiles.

"Wot?"

"Y'need some merch, bro!"

Sniper's eyes trailed up, a rather abused shack stood beside them, various garments displaying large "R"'s and "S"s neatly hung up upon the walls.

"C'mon, man. You'll look good! You'll be sexy." He encouraged. "Y'know, for all the ladies..." He added as he was flashed a rather odd look from the salesman.

"S'not like 'm sayin' it wouldn't be a right nice souvenir. Jus' not sure a small would fit me."

"Listen, if there was a different size, I'd get it, but there ain't. Just try it, man. It'll still be a good memory, yeah?"

"Y'got a point there. 'lright, I'll take the bloody thing."

"Sick." The boy nodded, handing the man behind the register a wrinkled bill. "Gimme that last one, pops."

He nodded a thanks as the shirt was handed to him, turning to Jack and waving it in his face.

"Put it on, slugger."

"...'M a decade older than you, love."

"Fine. Put it on, gramps."

The bushman scoffed, but obliged, unbuttoning his shirt and trading it off for the jersey.

He grunted as the fabric was pulled down onto his torso. Even the leniency of spandex did little to help him. When the shirt finally sat put, he looked back up at the Bostonian across from him, mortified.

"This is bloody awful! I look like a kiddy fiddler! I look like... like..."

His words fell off track as he noticed the alert expression that stuck to the other's face.

"Dude..." The boy's eyes stayed fixed on the man's chest, tongue dragging itself over his lips.

"You look..."

"This another part o' your weird baseball fetish? Y'can practically see m'bits. I look like a teenage girl tryin' t'get shagged."

"Mhm. Yeah." Caleb's hand reached out, only to quickly be slapped away.

"Y'serious? Mistah In-the-Closet. Now y'just wanna go 'nd touch me in the middle of bloody public? Gimme m'shirt."

"No way, man. You're wearin' this all day. Least til the games over."

"Not happenin'. M'stomach's cold." He whined, looking down at the display once again. It truly was awful. The shirt's base stopped shortly above his navel, drawing even more attention to the trail of hairs leading into his trousers. That of him it did cover left little to the imagination, constricting fibers outlining each detail and crevice of his chest. Awful.

"Y'can see m'nipples. Caleb, people'r gonna think I've c'mere to molest their kids."

The boy snapped out of his hypnotic state.

"So... nothin' new then."


	5. Chapter 5

"Now 'is..." The Marksman began with an approving nod, one hand placed on either hip. "This's more m'style."

"You mean gay?"

"I mean classy. Guess y'wouldn't know all t'much about that, would ya?"

"Yup. Too busy not being a faggot."

"Didn't seem like it last night, love. F'someone who claims t'be a heterosexual, you sure love begging fer m'cock."

"Yo, I never said I was straight. Just never said I was a fag, man. I mean, everyone needs a lil' bit o' this, amirite?" He gestured downward, clearly straining as he did his best to flex.

"...So now yer a prostitute?"

"No. What I mean... It's like... Y'know what? Shut the fuck up."

A low chuckle rumbled from between Jack's lips.

"I love ya, too, mutt. I'd be roight jealous if y'shared yerself wit' anyone else."

"Yeah, I'd be pretty fuckin' sad if you stuck your dick in someone else, too."

Scout nodded, his face serious and even a bit solemn.

"Quite th'poet." The bushman confirmed. "Now 'en, le's look at some art."

"…So gay." Caleb mumbled, following the other up the metal steps and into the art museum.

The silence between the two was unbearable. Caleb could barely believe that neither of them had said a thing in almost twenty minutes. His eyes glanced over to where Jack stood for what felt like the millionth time, revealing only that the man's gaze had remained fixed on the wall before them.

"Jesus, dude. You've been staring at this shit forever. Can we get a move on?"

There was silence for a moment, and the messenger almost thought Mundy hadn't heard him.

"'m not done decipherin' it. Lo's a little bits n'pieces t'sort through." He finally said as he took note of the scout's mouth opening to ask once more.

"Deciphering fuckin' what? It's just scribbles, bro. I could make this shit for you back home."

"Y'don't gettit. I's like a big puzzle. Not all 'at pretty til y'figure 't out."

"Yo, that's like my friend, right? Got this giant dick ring, right? And like... Shit was so fuckin' nasty, but all the chicks were like... All over it. Told 'em it represented freedom or some shit and they were so horny."

"Uh, yes. Jus' loike that."

The messenger chewed the inside of his lip, silent for a moment as a look of genuine interest ran over his face.

"I think I get it, Snipey. It's like a game… sorta."

"...Snipey."

"Yeah, you like it?"

"Not really, _Scouty_."

"That shit sounds a lot gayer than Snipey."

"No." The answer was curt, and the sharpshooter turned to walk towards the next painting after he'd said it.

The boy followed.

"It's weird, y'know? I always lived like right next to this place… Never actually went in."

"Really? Not once?"

"Well, like… once when I was real little… I think… With my mom and one of her boyfriends. Guy was such a tool. It was so retarded."

"Huh, what'd he do?"

Caleb stopped walking for a moment, simply stood, then picked up his pace again.

"Well, he did my mom, man. That shit's fucking nasty."

"She's a woman with needs, Caleb."

"Dude, stop. She's my mom."

"You 'nd your brothers had t'be made somehow."

"Stop. It's done."

The Sniper smirked.

"Caleb, guess whot?"

"What, asshole?"

"She's had sex. A lot. A lot o' free willed sex."

"Fuck you, man! Shut the fuck up!"

The Sniper had successfully gotten the boy's blood to boil and tried not to seem too smug as he faced the consequences.

"She's the only one then, man. Cuz you're not gettin' any for a long fuckin' time now, asswipe."

Jack's smirk fell. The only thing Caleb seemed to love more than sex was holding a grudge, and breaking one could take months.

"Awwww, don't be like 'at, love!"

"Then take it back."

Mundy wasn't entirely sure what there was to take back. He hadn't lied to the boy, simply stated facts. Granted, facts that Caleb hadn't wanted to hear, but facts nonetheless.

"Uh… 'lright. I… take it back."

"That's right, you better fuckin' take it back! Your nasty ass thinkin' all this shit… and in a fuckin' art museum, man. Have some dignity, slugger."

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. Everything in that sentence made his brain ache. He swallowed his pride before responding.

"Okay."

"Yeah, you bet your ass 'okay'! That's my mom, man. That's like… It's like… So I guess what I mean is…" The scout seemed to have stumped himself. He huffed for a moment longer before he cleared his throat and swung his arm around his obviously taller partner's shoulders.

"Shit happens though, so… we good. And, like… y'know…" He nodded.

"Sounds good."

_Apology accepted, Scouty. Apology accepted. _


	6. Chapter 6

"Mr. Mundy!" Marissa greeted, smiling as she saw the man before her. "Where are you headed?"

Mundy, who had been zipping his jacket before he was called, looked up.

"Eh? Oh, just headin' down t'the campa', need t'get a few things."

"Ooo, alright! I think Caley went down there a little while ago!"

Jack chuckled as he made his way passed the boy's mother.

"'ll be sure t'tell Caley y'said 'ello then."

Sniper hummed as he neared his camper, a frown settling on his face as he saw the door to his home swung wide open.

He quickened his pace, cautiously stepping inside, only to see Caleb raiding the place. Disheveled boxes and drawers were scattered about the floor, and the frown on Jack's face worsened.

"Gremlin! Wot in bloody 'ell are ya doin' t'me van?"

The boy swung around, a look of utter fury plastered to his face. He fumed over to where his boyfriend stood, backing Jack up until his knees hit the sofa, causing him to lose his balance and fall back into the seat.

The scout towered over him now, right arm lifting to dangle a piece of fabric before the man's eyes.

Jack stared at it for a moment, completely mortified at what the boy had managed to find. His eyes worked their way up to Caleb's. He smiled shyly, a gesture that the boy did not care to return.

"Y'gonna fuckin' explain yourself? I swear to fuckin' God, man! I just… You… y'see that bat over there? I will bash your brains in with that bat, man! No hesitations! Nobody'll even recognize your ugly kangaroo fucking face!"

"Listen, I… I know 'is looks bad! I do! 'Is not wot it looks like!" He smiled, nodding as he fidgeted in his seat. The man could not think of a situation where he had ever felt this uncomfortable. Even if the boy asked, telling him the truth wasn't exactly ideal.

Caleb shook his head at the marksman and continued to angrily pace the floor, piece of cloth still gripped tightly in his fist.

"Man, are you cheatin'? I'll fuckin' kill you. Who's it with? Was it my mom?" A look of even more disgust passed over the boy's face.

"You're fuckin' sick. That's a new low, even for you."

Jack wrinkled his nose, a look of anger washing over his face.

"Now 'old on a minute! I nevah cheated on anyone, 'nd 'm sick o' bein' accused o' doin' so!"

Caleb stopped, and turned himself to face Mundy. He stalked over to where he sat, leaning himself down so that his eyes matched up with those of his lover.

"Yeah, then what the fuck's goin' on?" The words were hissed from between clenched teeth, and any prior confidence that Sniper had obtained was now diminished by the glints of rage that filtered through his young coworkers eyes.

"Why. Do. You. Have. These?" Each word was filled with a little more rage, and as the last word was squeezed out, the boy held up the object that was infuriating him so. A pair of lace trimmed violet panties.

"Well…" Began the other, eyes shifting to concentrate on Caleb's torso rather than his eyes. "Y'see, I wos… Kinda hopin' y'might… y'know…"

Both curiosity and frustration peaked in the boy, and, while Sniper didn't see a shift on his face, he could feel the boy's eyes boring through the top of his head.

"No. I don't know. Enlighten me, _pal._"

"I wos jus' thinkin' 'at, maybe, y'could wear 'em for me."

Jack didn't have time to look up, and it took him a moment to realize that he had actually just received a punch to the face. It stung, even more so when he brought up a hand to cradle his jaw.

"Oi! Bloody piss! Wot was 'at for?"

"You're fuckin' lyin'!"

"I's the truth!"

"Bullshit!"

"Look at th'bloody knickers! Didn't even 'ave time t'remove th'damn price tag!"

Caleb lifted the panties, feeling them over until he found the small dangling tag. He frowned.

"Who'd pay 10 bucks for a pair o' undies? Y'can get 'em in an 8 pack for that!"

"Yer thinkin' o' briefs. Ladies got a lil' more class than 'at, love."

"Well, fuck you! I ain't no dame, Jack!"

"I never said y'were!"

"Yeah? Then why you tryna stick me in a pair of women's undies, huh?"

"Y'can pull 'em off!"

There was silence for a moment, and Jack briefly wondered if he was going to receive another jab to the jaw. He flinched for a second, opening his eyes only to see that the scout seemed to be mulling this over.

"Y'really think I can pull 'em off?"

Bingo. If there was one thing Caleb loved, it was being told how great he was at everything. No matter how demeaning those things might be.

"Sure! Sure! Only guy I know in fact! Y'make panties downroight sexy! Couldn't imagine the ol' doc in 'em or anythin'! It takes real talent!"

The young brunette beamed, shrugging to show he simply couldn't help it.

"Heh, well, yeah, y'know…" He nodded. "Can't fix perfection, so… can't really blame ya' for wantin' to see me a little sexier."

"Oh yes, o' course. The infamous Caleb even sexier? Hard t' imagine, mate."

The undertones of sarcasm went unnoticed, as expected when Caleb was on an ego high.

"Can't blame ya, haha. Y'know, if y'really wanted to see me sexy, I got that beer hat from my 21st, really makes me look like a man!"

"Ehhhh, temptin', truly, but… le's jus' do one at a time, 'lright?"

"Why?"

"Not s'sure I could handle th'helmet…"

"Too much, too much. Wouldn't wantchya creamin' your pants, I understand."

"Ehhh… Thanks."

"Well then… guess I'll put 'em on."


End file.
